Mindfulness

Be Here Now, and Be Free.

“Only this actual moment is life.” ― Thích Nhất Hạnh

There’s a Buddhist story which speaks to false perception.

The story is about a young couple who lived during the seventeenth century. When the war broke out, the young man was called into service – leaving his pregnant wife to support the home all alone.

The young man fought for over 3 years, until he was finally allowed to come home.

On the day of his return, the young wife stood with their young son at the entrance of the village. She couldn’t wait to see her husband, and cried with such joy when the two were finally reunited.

“This is your son,” she said softly. “It is through his eyes, that I have met with you each day.”

After they returned home, the young woman left for market – leaving the young man alone for the first time with his son.

The father tried desperately to persuade the young boy to call him ‘father’, but – with every effort, the little one refused.

“No, you are not my daddy.” the little one protested. “My daddy is another man who comes here every evening. Mommy talks with him for a long time, and she cries with him, too. Every time my Mommy sits down, he sits down also. And, every time she lies down, he lies down, as well.”

All of the young man’s happiness dissipated in that moment. Once full of joy, he was now – a block of ice.

When his wife returned home, he refused to acknowledge her. and so, she sat silently in her kitchen preparing their offering.

When she had finished, the young man placed the offering at the shrine. He then unrolled a mat, lit the incense, and bowed before his ancestors to announce his safe return.

And then, without saying a word – he rolled up the mat up, before his dear wife had the opportunity to kneel upon the earth. You see, he had become so convinced that his wife was unfaithful – that he felt her unworthy to kneel before their sacred ancestors.

For three days, neither said a word to the other – allowing their suffering to grow until it became too great a burden to bear.

By the fourth day, the woman’s pain was unbearable – and she threw herself into the river, and drowned.

That night, the young man stayed with the child – and, when it was dark, he leaned in to light a gas lamp.

“There,” the young boy shouted, pointing to a shadow against the wall. “There is my daddy. Every night my daddy comes, and mommy talks with him for hours and hours. And, sometimes she cries – and, daddy cries, too.”

The truth was suddenly all too clear. The man who had visited every evening, was actually the woman’s shadow. She had fashioned this story to quell the little boy’s longing.

“That’s your daddy,” she had once said to him. “And, you can say ‘I love you, daddy’ any time you wish.”

We’ve all suffered the burden of our own misconception. Someone says or does something at work, and suddenly a ‘new story’ unfolds.

But, how often do we pause to ask ourselves – are we so certain of this truth before us?

The Buddha taught that there is a ‘river of perception’ within us all; that we might learn to sit at the banks, and contemplate how we really feel.

Are we so very certain of our perceptions?

My darlings, we have all fallen victim to these stories within. Perhaps, moving forward we might allow this question to serve as our ‘mindfulness bell.’

Remember, “only this actual moment is life.”

The Child-like Heart of Seeing.

I believe it was Picasso who once said that an artist is someone who still sees this world through the eyes of a child.

My goodness, so much truth in so few words. When we are young, the world is a magical place; where adventure is fashioned in fallen trees over streams.

And, hope built with each fearless leap.

Though, somehow as we grow older – our conditions change. We forfeit optimism in exchange for ease.

How foolish to think that with comfort, comes peace.

“Every child is an artist,” he said. “The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up.”

As for me? These days, even the shortest of walks evoke my child-like heart of seeing.

For, within each withered branch and ambered leaf, there exists…a little indescribable ‘something special’, which fans the embers of Belief.

And, with glittering eyes and patience, my darlings….perhaps it just might be seen.

Finding Our Way Home Once Again.

Someone asked a question of me this morning, “How do we keep our practice ‘alive’?”

They were referring to the practice of mindfulness training; specifically, maintaining a connection with our truest self when all else seems to be slipping into chaos.

It’s never easy, is it? We may spend hours dedicated to our meditation practice – but, that sense of bliss is never everlasting. Maybe, that’s the mistake we’re all making? Thinking once we’ve lost our ‘center’, we’ve failed.

But, the true success is in finding our way back once again.

My darlings, our lives are filled with unexpected moments. In a single day, we may experience an endless array of emotions – from extraordinary upset to absolute contentedness. We may cry, we may cringe, we may fumble, we may fall – but always, deep within the very center of our heart, there is this irrefutable capacity for gratitude.

And, gratitude is the stepping point for resilience.

In his talk, The Living Dharma, Thich Nhat Hanh offers,

“Living Dharma is when we know how to walk mindfully, when we know how to sit mindfully, when we know how to eat mindfully, we know how to breathe mindfully, we know how to recognize what is happening in the present moment. If we practice mindfulness in our daily life, then we are making Dharma shine all around us. Living Dharma is not made by images and sounds, it is made by life.”

Indeed, to find our balance, we must move around – recalibrating our ‘sense of center’ to whatever life may throw our way.

It’s in those moments when our lives are turned upside down…

That we may relax…

That we may breathe…

That we may find our way home once again.

The practice isn’t about avoiding life’s upsets, my darlings – rather, it’s about embracing them.

This Moment of Metta.

Some years ago, in the midst of my spiritual ‘growing pains’ – I found myself desperate for relief. “Just a moment,” I thought, “a return to self – the way things used to be.”

I had been frightened, I suppose, by the enormity of letting go – this releasing, as it was, of all that I had ever known. I had been victimized, or so I thought, by the vile indignation of another – trapped behind this wall of what I presumed to be real.

Until one day when I realized – just because it’s real, doesn’t make it true.

I thought of myself as a young girl—I used to be terrified of the dark. Our house, in those days, sat nestled in the woods – surrounded on all sides by the ‘voice’ of the forest. And I, with my frighteningly overactive imagination thought — well, it must be monsters, of course.

I tortured myself nearly every night—convinced that those monsters were after me. Though, in the end, they never seemed to care. All that troubling over something that wasn’t even there.

It’s hard to imagine that these sounds, which had once provoked great fear – were now, oddly, very soothing to me.

Just because it’s real, doesn’t make it true.

I thought of all the harsh words once spoken to me – those pockets of unprovoked anger, and feelings of never quite being good enough. Though they may have felt real in that moment, my darlings, they most certainly were not true.

That single revelation, this moment of metta – it was the relief I had been searching for all these years.

Settle in the here and now.
Reach down into the center
where the world is not spinning
and drink this holy peace.

Feel relief flood into every
cell. Nothing to do. Nothing
to be but what you are already.
Nothing to receive but what
flows effortlessly from the
mystery into form.

Nothing to run from or run
toward. Just this breath,
awareness knowing itself as
embodiment. Just this breath,
awareness waking up to truth.

~ Danna Faulds

My darlings, settle in to this here and now – feel relief flood into every cell.

And, remember, you’ve always been good enough, my loves.

“Let go of the battle. Breathe quietly and let it be.”

[blockquote source=”Christopher Pointdexter”]”Never could I breathe love if I did not first learn to inhale a little bit of chaos.” [/blockquote]

There is a saying in Buddhist teachings, “though you may be capable of great things, remember always – that life consists within the small.”

There is often a density to our struggles, a tendency to amplify the true nature of our experience. To attach our ‘story lines’, to editorialize – instead of opening to the center point of our awareness.

Certainly, it’s human nature to withdraw when we feel at risk. But, how much running is really to be done when the threat is mostly in our head?

More importantly, how do we – in those microscopic, split-second moments of reactivity – discern between that which is perceived and real?

Insight Meditation Center teacher, and author Tara Brach offers,

“It’s hard to hang out with the truth of what we’re feeling. We may sincerely intend to pause and be mindful whenever a crisis arises or whenever we feel stuck and confused, but our conditioning to react, escape, or become possessed by emotion is very strong.”

Which begs the question, how do we continue to ‘carry our Zen’ – when all of our senses urge us to run away?

Breathe…“Let go of the battle. Breathe quietly and let it be.”

And though, it might seem impossible, at best – remember, that this breath is the ‘stepping point’ in opening to our awareness.

With each breath, comes the opportunity to pause…to reflect; to breathe deep the laughter, the joys, the regret; to open to our sorrows and our splendor, as well; to take it all in, before we react.

My darlings, it is this very breath that becomes our soul connection.

And, in this tiny, split second fraction of a moment – we find our passageway to awareness.

Namaste, my most beautiful friends…remember, to let go and just simply breathe.

Finding Happiness in the Littlest of Things.

Philosopher Frederich Nietzsche once said, “How little suffices for happiness! The least thing precisely, the gentlest thing, the lightest thing, a lizards’s rustling, a breath, a wink, an eye glance—little maketh up the best happiness.”

It was in this rare moment of silence that he realized—it’s the littlest things that bring us closest to God.

Now, whether you prescribe to Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, or Buddhism—there’s no mistaking, that something quite extraordinary greets us within these moments of stillness.

Oh, but how easily we are pulled away—with restlessness seizing our awareness, and throwing mindfulness into a cage.

In doing so, we end up missing those much smaller things. Like the canopy of trees, with bursts of gold and scarlet red. Or, those subtle hints of aster peppered amongst the green.

We miss what it means to be free—to love this life, just as it is.

In her book, Only This, poet Dorothy Hunt shares, “In this never-ending flow of life, there is an infinite array of choices. One alone brings happiness—to love what is.”

Indeed, to love what is. To pay attention with all senses, to take those tiny miracle in. To see the glory in an old dusted trail; to find adventure, to be compelled.

To see the miracle in those much simpler things—my darlings, this is what it means to be free.

You Are Not So Very Small, After All.

[blockquote source=”Marianne Williamson “]“Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do.”[/blockquote]

I watched a group of boys playing ball from my window today. Behind them, and trying desperately to keep up, was a much younger – and quite a bit smaller – little man.

“Go away,” they shouted. “You’re ruining our game.”

And then I watched, as the smallest of boys – hung his head sadly and walked away. I could see his eyes beginning to tear, so I stepped outside and called him near.

“Come here, my darling. And, tell me…just what is this awfully big matter?”

“I hate being little,” he said, sniffling through his tears.

Oh, how I remember that feeling of always being too ‘so very small.’ Chasing my big brother and all of his friends perilously through those thick woods. I wanted so very much to be part of their much bigger group—to laugh and to play. But always, and inevitably, they would ‘shoosh’ me away.

“Get out of here, you little baby.” they would shout. “Go home, we don’t want you around!”

Sometimes, the earliest of lessons are the ones that stick with us the longest. Because, I will never forget that feeling of being so very small. I suppose, that’s why it is that I’m always on the lookout for little ones being pushed away.

“Come here,” I said, pulling him nearer. “Do you see those trees, how they move? And how the birds, way up there are thoughtfully looking down at you. And, the wind? Can, you feel the wind against your cheek? Oh, and how about that sun way up over there? Close your eyes, and tell me…can you feel the sun’s light shining down on you?”

“Yes,” he sniffled, as he scrunched up his eyes and turned his face towards the sky.

“Well,” I whispered in hushed secrecy, “all of that is the Universe—and you’re a very big part of that, too. Everything that is, and everything was…and everything that might ever be, it’s all a part of you, too. So, you see, my darling – you are not so very small, at all.”

And, though—at six years old, I’m not sure just how very much of these words may have settled in. I could tell, at least, as he looked up at the sky—that he felt just a little ‘bigger’ that day.

We all feel small, sometimes.

And, there will always be something much bigger than our own hearts, and with the capacity to completely humble our souls.

In life, there will always be challenges. And, there will be times when we face what may seem to be insurmountable odds.

But know this—nothing is ever too big, and we are never too small.

So, shine on and shine through—because, after all, the Universe is within you.

And always remember, no matter how hopeless the odds—even a hummingbird can put out a forest fire.

In this beautifully animated clip from Dirt! The Movie, Wangari Maathai tells an inspiring tale of doing the best you can under seemingly interminable odds. It is one of my favorite stories, and one that I share with any little one who’ll sit still long enough to hear it.

I hope you’ll share it with your little ones, too.

Show them that no matter what happens in this world, they are never too small after all.

From Wangari Maathai, “I Will Be a Hummingbird.”

Stepping Outside of our Self-Imposed Cage.

“The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.”

– Maya Angelou

I read the saddest story the other day, about a young tigress who was presented to President Eisenhower when she was still just a cub. Her name was Mohini, meaning ‘enchantress’ – and, she was considered one of the rarest white tigers in all the world. Her lineage was mostly unknown, though it is presumed that she was descendant of Mohan, who was captured as a cub by the Maharaja of Rewa.

She was gifted, in part, due to her uniqueness of color – as one reporter described, “her black stripes fading to brown, against a coat of eggshell white.” She was intended to serve as a symbol of loyalty, and offer hope to the children of America.

Sadly, she was immediately confined to a 12 by 12 foot cement enclosure at the Washington DC National Zoo. Oh, how foolish we were to think that hope could be caged.

Mohini spent many of her days pacing anxiously back and forth, until one day – when caretakers were finally able to provide her a much more suitable location.

Covering several acres, the new habitat boasted acres upon acres of rolling hills, magnificent shade trees – and even a small pond. Everything, they presumed, a tiger of such regal stature might wish.

On the day of her ‘release’, crowds gathered from all around; both young and old waiting with bated breath, excited to witness the Mohini’s imminent freedom.

Though, something unexpected occurred when they finally lifted that gate. For, rather than venturing outwards into the vastness of this new open space, Mohini instead retreated to the farthest back corner of the area – where she lived out the remainder of her days pacing anxiously in that very same 12 by 12 foot space. No matter how hard the caretakers tried, they just couldn’t break Mohini free from her mental cage.

Perhaps, we are all like Mohini in a way? Meaning, we know that freedom exists for us all, we just can’t seem to get out of our own way. We begin to cage ourselves in with thoughts of insecurity and doubt, until fear becomes our final fortress. These mental habits become so ingrained, that we are unable to break free from our routine.

As uncomfortable as it may seem, we must find the means to embrace the possibilities before us; only then, can we finally know the true taste of freedom.

So, go on now – let the mud squish up through your toes. Take long walks, and find adventure. Live the life you’ve always dreamed, but never dared.

After all, my darlings – isn’t it time you stepped outside of this self-imposed cage?

 

When the Churning Begins.

“The Yogic sages say that all the pain of a human life is caused by words, as is all the joy. We create words to define our experience and those words bring attendant emotions that jerk us around like dogs on a leash. We get seduced by our own mantras (I’m a failure… I’m lonely… I’m a failure… I’m lonely…) and we become monuments to them. To stop talking for a while, then, is to attempt to strip away the power of words, to stop choking ourselves with words, to liberate ourselves from our suffocating mantras.”
― Elizabeth Gilbert

When I was a little girl, I remember visiting Niagra Falls with my parents.

At just barely 7-years-old, and not quite tall enough to see over those wrought iron safety rails – my father raised me high up over his shoulders so that I might get a better look.

And, I couldn’t have been more terrified. There was just something about those violently churning waters that made me feel so dreadfully small inside.

I think, in a sense, our emotions can be much this way – something trips our switch and suddenly we’re pulled back in again.

Pema Chodron refers to this as, “getting caught up in the momentum of our emotions.” Whether we like it or not, we are often at the mercy of our emotions – caught up in that ‘minefield’ of expectations and attachments.

Many will ask, “How do I free myself from such negative thinking?”

But, perhaps, the better question to be asked is, “How do I experience this life without falling head first into my fears.”

My darlings, maybe it’s not so much about getting rid of our thoughts, but rather…learning to stay present when the churning begins.

Taming the Wild Horse Mind.

[dropcap background=”yes” color=”#333333″ size=”50px”]T[/dropcap]here is a Zen story about a person  sitting on a horse, galloping wildly through the woods. When suddenly, he finds himself at a crossroads.

“Where are you going?” a stranger calls out to him.

“I don’t know,” he replies, “ask the horse!”

Sometimes, I feel this is our situation – that the horse is our mind galloping aimlessly away, while we do our very best to hold on. But, that’s the nature of the horse, now isn’t it? Unbridled, it wishes only for the freedom of those wide-open fields.

Indeed, where are we going?

Thích Nhất Hạnh describes this as the energy of our habits – an often unrelenting force that leaves us feeling powerless to change.”We are always running,” he offers, “and it has become a habit. We struggle all the time, even during our sleep.”

My goodness, isn’t this the truth? How easily our minds race recklessly off, before we’ve even settled upon our way forward.

If only we might learn to tame our ‘wild horse’ mind…

Of course, the first step is to be mindful of those moments when we’re being swept away. Typically, we’re made away of this when our intense emotions begin to get the better of us. Feelings such as, rage, jealousy and fear – which can either send us flailing off, or begin to open us to the direct experience of awakening.

To do so, we must be willing to be open to our truest human experience – to be fully present in this moment now, without the need for judgement or commentary. To experience this life, without the habit of elaboration – my darlings, this is how we begin to tame that wild horse mind.

I don’t remember who it was that said, if you want to become more mindful – take note of your reactions. Our reactions, though unpleasant at times, can become an invaluable tool for insight.

“Somebody says a mean word to you and then something in you tightens.,” offers Pema Chodron, “Then it starts to spiral into low self-esteem, or blaming them, or anger at them, denigrating yourself. And maybe if you have strong addictions, you just go right for your addiction to cover over the bad feeling that arose when that person said that mean word to you.”

My darlings, it’s precisely in these first few moments of ‘mind racing off’ – that we have the greatest capacity to effect a change. After all, a horse galloping at full speed is much harder to reign in.

Through something as simple as being aware of our reactions, my darlings – we can begin to tame this wild horse mind.

Namaste, and much love today.